Boggarts
by RaiCon24
Summary: England has a 'surprise' for everyone. Little does he know that that surprise could turn quite deadly. See what happens when England unleashes a boggart on the countries (and find out their deepest fears). Not much mention of Harry Potter other than the boggart and England's wand. Based off of Hetalia. Rated K for mentions of insanity, alcohol, guns, & kissing.


**_This is the first fanfiction I've written in a while. Let me know what you think. :D_**

**__Boggarts**

"You all may be wondering why I've called you here," spoke the short, blonde-headed British man: England. "Well I have a surprise for you! Today, I'm going to introduce you all to a little bit of my magic." The Brit grabbed a hold of the cotton sheet, and in one, quick movement, revealed the wardrobe beneath it. From somewhere in the back of the crowd, erupted an enormous, annoying laughter.

"What is _that?!_ Are we going to Narnia or something?!" The blond that had just spoken, wearing square glasses and a 1940's bomber jacket, was America. He threw his head back, clutching his stomach and gasping for air as his boisterous laughing continued.

"Wha- NO!" England suddenly turned quite red and then looked back at his wardrobe. "No... Today... Today we find out all of your greatest fears!" His face had suddenly turned into a deadly grin. Undoing the lock on the handles and opening the doors to the closet, the British man stepped back to watch everyone else's expressions as a black figure, seemingly made out of nothing more than shadow, appeared from inside the wardrobe. "This, is a boggart."

America's face suddenly went pale, and he hid behind the tall, vodka-smelling man in front of him (Russia). "W-woah! Seriously? I read about these in those books man... Is it real?" The 'hero' would never admit it, but he was trembling quite badly.

"Oh yes... Yes, _very _real. Why don't you come have a look, America?" England gave a sinister wink.

Before the blonde American could move, a taller, more sophisticated blonde stood up. "Nein. This is impossible. Completely theoretical in it's very existence. It's a hoax... Probably a projection from a camera somewhere in the room." The German man began looking around before coming face-to-face with the creature.

Suddenly, something incredible happened. The creature began to turn and morph, until it was now a standing mirror. Everyone that had been muttering or whispering in the crowd of people now fell silent. The German man looked into the mirror, and was both entranced and horrified by what was looking back at him.

The blonde saw himself, however, a much younger version. This version had the same, smoothed back blonde hair, and the same wide nose and thin lips, but there was one key difference in his appearance: his eyes. The German that was, in fact, standing in the room had light blue eyes that were often filled with wonder or thought, but the German staring back at him in the mirror... His eyes were dark, full of evil and hatred. Looking over the man in the mirror, the German's heart sank to his shoes. The version of himself he saw before him, was wearing a Nazi uniform.

The people in the crowd behind him gave a collective gasp as each of them tried to get a better look without getting too close to the 'boggart'. There was suddenly a small chuckle from the front of the room.

"Well then... America, why don't you tell them all what a boggart does!" England raved, far too happy with himself and the distressed looking German before him.

The American stood slowly from where he'd been crouching in fear. "A-a boggart... reveals your..." He swallowed heavily. "Deepest fears."

There was another collective gasp before the Brit spoke. "Well line up then. Let's see what kind of boogey man is lurking under your beds!" At that, all of the doors and windows slammed shut, locking in the process.

The short man with a dark ponytail ran to one of the windows, trying to force it open, but it wouldn't budge. When the Chinese man touched the latch that locked the window, he yelped and retracted his now burnt hand. "It won't open!" He declared, sucking on his scorched fingers.

The Russian man mentioned earlier gave a soft laugh and walked to the window. "Nonsense. You've just got to use force!" He laughed again as he took out a 4 foot long metal pipe. Raising it like a baseball bat, he swung as hard as he could at the glass. When it didn't shatter, his eyes widened and he looked down at his pipe. "Nyet... Not possible... It should have broken." He looked incredulously at the window before his eyes found the snickering Brit. "You've gone mad, England."

The Brit ignored him. "Well come on then! Everyone! Into a line! Don't be shy!" He threw his head back in laughter as he sicked the boggart on the crowd.

The shadowy figure immediately found a crying French man. He was running his fingers through his blonde hair yelling, "I'm too young to die!" But he too, was soon entranced into looking into the portal the boggart had created just for him. Inside he saw his once beloved, Joan of Arc. But this was not some normal, happy looking woman. Instead, she was screaming as she was being burnt at the stake.

Quickly, the boggart left the French man to peer into his portal, and moved on to the next in line. The small, brunette Italian was already in tears before he looked at what the boggart had to show him. Immediately, he began to sob louder. Peering down at him from inside the portal was a very disappointed looking Germany.

Down the line the creature went, reaching, now, the tall Russian man, whom raised his pipe, ready to strike the boggart. But he too, was entranced. In his portal, he saw himself, standing alone in front of the Soviet flag. He swallowed roughly as he watched the other version of himself pull out a revolver and place it to his head.

His sister, Belarus, however, swooped in and grabbed the Russian man by the chin, forcing him to look at her. "I'm here, brother. I'm here, and I always will be." The Russian tried to smile. When the boggart approached her, Belarus growled and the creature cringed, quickly floating away.

The boggart reached a proud looking Japanese man, whom bowed and then looked at the creature, seemingly accepting his fate. In his own portal, the Asian man saw his towns, cities, and his capital being corrupted. People roamed the land, sickly and plagued. A single tear fell from the Jap's eye.

The Chinese man mentioned earlier was now entranced by an image of a Korean man lying dead on the battlefield. The actual Korean was standing next to him, watching a different version of the Chinese man sobbing. A Swiss man saw the short, brown haired Austrian screaming of his hatred for the Swiss. The actual version of the Austrian, however, was entranced by an image of his home being burnt to the ground.

And so the creature went, revealing everyone's worst fears. A Hungarian woman saw two Italian children being tortured. Romano saw his beloved Spaniard marrying a woman he'd never seen; whilst the Spaniard saw his Italian lover packing his bags and moving away. The images many saw were depressing and horrifying. But none such more than what an ivory-haired German saw.

When the Prussian looked into the boggart, he saw nothing but a mirror. And then, his own reflection began to fade. Slowly and gently, as if being eaten away by acid. Looking down at himself, he realized that it was no illusion. His own flesh was slowly disintegrating.

When the Brit saw this, he began to panic. Eyes wide, he searched the room to find it was true. Not only were the portals the boggart had created gone, but the people affected were also turning into their worst fears. And that's when he saw it.

Looking at the American, he saw what the blonde capitalist's worst fear was. The portal that had been created for the hamburger lover was one showing England and the French man in the room at a chapel, getting married.

Britain's heart leaped into his throat. The dark tint to his green eyes faded and he once again looked like himself. Looking around, he tried to rationalize a plan to get rid of the boggart, he was sure that if he could do so, the materializing of everyone's fears would stop. But as he looked around frantically, he came face-to-face with the creature itself. He swallowed heavily as he was entranced.

Slowly, a portal opened and he saw the thing he dreaded most to relive.

_It was raining heavily, causing the ground to bellow up with pockets of mud. Footprints and blood littered the ground. The Brit was on his knees, staring at his reflection in a dirty pool of water that had puddled around him. His hair was a strewn, and there were cuts pouring out blood on his face. Looking up, he saw the chamber of a musket not even an inch from his nose. Beyond that, the holder of the gun, was a young blonde man in a blue and white army coat. Blue eyes peered out from under the dirt covered, mud matted hair. "What happened to you? You used to be so great." The young American spoke._

Suddenly, the Brit pulled himself away. No. He couldn't stand here and be tortured by his own past and his present fears. He had to do something. Pulling out his wand (it was an old pathetic thing that he barely used anymore), he cast a difficult spell, and suddenly, with a flash of light, the wardrobe closed and locked, with the boggart inside.

Everyone fell to the ground, clutching their heads as if they'd all gotten a bad headache. England immediately ran to the American's side.

"America? America are you alright?!" The Brit had tears in his eyes.

Slowly, the younger blonde opened one cyan eye and looked up at him. "England? Bro! I just had the weirdest dream! You went crazy and had this... this boggart! And.." At that moment, the American sat up to see the wardrobe from his 'dream' sitting before him. He yelped and tried to back away but the Brit grabbed his shoulder.

"It's okay. I took care of it. I'm so sorry. I... I don't know what I was thinking..." The Brit pulled the American into a tight hug, one that the younger blonde was not expecting at all. He didn't seem to mind, however and hugged the elder back. Finally, the Brit pulled away, a slight blush on his face. "I... I saw your... greatest fear."

Now, it was the American's turn to blush. "S-so... you know..." He looked down, seemingly ashamed.

Suddenly, the Brit crushed his lips against the American's. England pulled away, smiling at the bewildered look on the other's face. "I love you, you dumb git." He laughed softly, and hugged the American close.

The American coughed slightly before whispering. "I love you too, England..."


End file.
